


Not Yet

by TaeAelin



Category: Charlie Countryman (2013)
Genre: Affection, Angst and Humor, Canon Backstory, Caretaking, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Comforting!Gabi, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Late Night Conversations, Nigel Loves Gabi Too Much, Pre-Movie(s), Shorts, Sickfic, Vulnerability, Vulnerable!Nigel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaeAelin/pseuds/TaeAelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving Nigel is hard. Leaving Nigel is harder. Nigel is ill. Gabi isn't quite ready to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Yet

By the time Nigel got home, it was late enough that it didn't matter. Before she could decide whether to pretend to be asleep, he had curled up beside her, shoes and smoky clothes still intact.

"Did I wake you?"

He kept to a careful whisper, despite staring right into her eyes. He knew something was wrong. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, it wasn't even to do with him. But somehow, somewhere along the lines, everything that had been just her had tangled up in him. And so that wasn't strictly true. It all came back to Nigel.

"I'm sorry, darling."

He leant in to kiss her cheek. He probably meant for the hour, but it could as likely been anything else. Nigel had never been sparing, not with love, not with praise, not with apologies. He was a mess of dangerous extremes, where she was left wandering somewhere in the middle ground.

He wrapped both arms around her, pulling her face against the pattern of his shirt. Whether she was looking at some sort of Hawaiian print or the lovechild of a hemp leaf and a rainbow, she couldn't tell. It didn't matter. It was all a blur of toxic pleasure, and she clung to him, just another of those situations where it was better to keep her eyes firmly closed.

He stroked her back, happy for the closeness if not the cause. She faced the other way all the more often now, and though it wasn't her intention, she knew it kept him awake. She hung on the brim of sleep, his sniffling an odd sort of white noise after so much suffocating silence. At least he was back.

She was close enough to telling him. It was almost a relief when he gave her an excuse not to, sneezing into her pillow with all the sudden and unnecessary violence that ever followed him in tow.

She twitched in surprise, softening as he unravelled a wrist to wipe his nose. He cleared his throat, then gave a guilty smile.

"Well. Don't let me give you my cold."

It was exactly the kind of ridiculously unhelpful statement she expected from him, and for some reason she found herself breaking into a grin despite herself.

"You're the one who came and lay all over _me._ "

"And will likely continue doing so all night, runny nose and all. But you're the sensible one."

She laughed, giving a playful push he nuzzled into her neck. "Where did you hear _that_ lie?"

He relented to flopping onto his back, unsuccessfully sourcing his pockets for a tissue. "I'd argue that, but I'm still here, and you're still here with me, so..." he waited until she gave an exasperated smile, before closing both hands roughly over his mouth, coughing hard enough that she found herself rubbing his chest before thinking of it.

When he could finally breathe, a swell of liquid looked ready to leak from the corners of both his eyes. It didn’t make things any easier on her. He grazed it away on the heel of a hand, shuffling upright to collect himself. When he spoke, his tone was gentler than she expected.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?"

She bought time, the ache spreading up her throat as she fumbled to pass him a glass of water. Christ, why did he have to use _that_ voice? Now. Just when she wanted him not to care.

The glass was empty by the time she hadn't answered. She shook her head. Just a little longer.

"It’s alright" he murmured, opening his arms. She held him long enough for it to feel okay again, before he gave a precipitous squint, turning to sneeze over his shoulder.

"Bless you. Here, let me grab you a tissue."

He groaned, more likely to do with having to let her up than the sympathy. The frown soon melted into one more urgent, and he pinched his nose between a thumb and forefinger. He watched her hunting around the bedside, padding over to fetch her handbag from the corner when that turned up nothing. She heard him take a gulp of air, just as quickly spitting it out in a laugh as she turned the handbag over onto the floor, raking through the contents with enthusiasm.

“Hold on, hold on, it’s here somewhere!”

“hh- _h!_ ” He started, torn between looking pained and amused. "Gabi, there is no _holding on._ "

"Wait, wait…" she held up a coffee shop napkin like the Holy Grail, extending it toward him not a moment too soon. He snatched it from her fingertips, cupping the small square in both palms before sneezing toward his lap.

" _–ugh._ " He drew his hands cautiously away, less than pleased with himself. "My nose needs you around more often."

She scoffed as she crawled back atop the blankets, pulling his shoes off for him on the way. "Huh. What an excuse."

He gave a watery smirk, his best effort not to look sincere. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I do wish you'd spend more time with me, darling."

"I would. If all your time wasn't spent doing things..." she stalled, hardly believing she had even started. What on earth was she leading towards? That I _hate?_ That are _illegal?_ She swallowed, the cramp in her chest returning.

_That will get you killed one day?_

He gave a low hum, unreadable, then raised a fist as he coughed toward his lap. Wincing as he doubled over, his other hand skimmed the lower side of his ribcage.

The knot of resentment unravelled near as fast as it tightened. "Hey. Let’s get some sleep. I’m right here.”

He gave something like a dip of his head, still crumpled in exhaustion. "Sorry. I’m being fucking disgusting, I don't know how you put up with this."

It was the kind of statement that came with an unfamiliar stab, though she knew he meant nothing by it. She gave a fond glare.

"Nigel. You're allowed to be ill."

He narrowed his eyes, not quite sure how to read it. She winked.

"-once in a while."

He warmed, tipping his head back slightly. "I wouldn't speak too soon."

Nipping closer, she reached for the folded napkin, smoothing out the creases and holding it gently to his nostrils. He flinched, a tiny lump of surprise. She gave an encouraging nod.

He blew his nose- none too gently, once he had made up his mind. Once he could saftely inhale, he let her fuss with the bedcovers, tucking him unnecessarily snugly back under the blanket. When she finally looked satisfied, he gave her an affectionate nudge.

"At least I'm distracting you, nhm?"

Strangely, she found herself agreeing with him. He wound back into her, shivering despite the warmth. Through the splatter of damp hair, she pressed her lips to his forehead.

He glanced up, half a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You almost make this fucking thing enjoyable, you know. Like it isn't fucking killing me from the inside out."

He closed his eyes. She kept hers open.

"I know."

-

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (:
> 
> Comments and kudos are always welcome, or chat to me about Nigel+Gabi on [Tumblr!](http://taeaelin.tumblr.com/)


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